


The Devil's Slippers

by grencle (christinefromsherwood)



Category: My Fair Lady (1964), Pygmalion - Shaw
Genre: Eliza Grows Even More Backbone, F/M, Lovely Heartwarming Ending, how it should have ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:04:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/grencle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But I can't turn your soul on," he said softly.</p><p>The worry lines around his mouth seemed more pronounced now and Eliza noticed that his eyes gained a gentle expression. She felt her heart twist painfully in her chest and were she less determined not to show any weakness, she would have hugged her arms around her shoulders for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil's Slippers

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a mixture of the My Fair Lady musical, Pygmalion (the play), Pygmalion (the 1938 film) and my own imagination. Feel free to imagine whatever actor you think fits best each role. I simply felt dissatisfied with the way My Fair Lady ended and so I've decided to write my own ending.
> 
> After reading G. B. Shaw's Pygmalion and its epilogue where Shaw explains why Eliza and Higgins could never possibly be together, I found that I agreed with his reasons completely. And yet, I think that there's chance for the couple from the musical, as Higgins was not quite so self-absorbed and cared for Eliza a little.
> 
> I apologize to Freddy's fans but I don't think that he would be a good companion for Eliza, no matter what Shaw said.
> 
> Anyway, read and review, and PLEASE point out any mistakes, you'll find in this text. I wrote it some time ago, so I'm afraid it's not very good.
> 
> *reposted from ff.net

"But I can't turn your soul on," he said softly.

The worry lines around his mouth seemed more pronounced now and Eliza noticed that his eyes gained a gentle expression. She felt her heart twist painfully in her chest and were she less determined not to show any weakness, she would have hugged her arms around her shoulders for comfort.

Instead Eliza clenched her fingers in fists and saw her knuckles whiten under the strain. She prayed to God to give her strength for, seeing how earnest he looked, she would have almost believed him. But she knew better now. She knew not to fall for one of his tricks again, no matter how earnest he looked.

"Oh, you ARE a devil!" she gasped out finally. "You can twist the heart in a girl as easy as some could twist her arms around to hurt her!"

He looked mildly surprised and pleased with himself, but Eliza went on nonetheless.

"What am I to come back for?" she asked exasperatedly. At that he jumped up, his face suddenly animated.

"For the fun of it!" Higgins cried out and waved his arms in the air. "That's why I took you on."

She stood in front of Higgins, looking straight into his face. Now, Eliza could see, he was absolutely serious about his offer.

Was he listening to himself? The night before he claimed to be glad that the charade was over, that he was getting bored with the whole affair, and now he wanted her to go back for the 'fun of it'? Oh, Eliza could see how that would go.

"And you may throw me out tomorrow, if I don't do everything you want me to?" she asked, incredulous at his image of their life.

"Yes; and  **you**  may walk out tomorrow, if  **I** don't do everything you want me to," he stated with air of generosity.

And there he was again with his proclamations of equality. Eliza was getting sick of his hypocritical attitude. He knew just as well as she did, that she had no other friend in the world besides Wimpole Street.

"And live with my father?" she asked and felt her temper almost getting the better of her. Higgins simply grinned at her.

"Yes, or sell flowers. Or would you rather marry Pickering?" he replied easily, with a teasing glint in his eyes at the last suggestion.

Eliza felt her blood boil.

"Not bloody likely!" she shrieked and glared at him fiercely. The good Colonel was old enough to be her grandfather and she loved him as such.

"Language, Eliza," Higgins corrected her gently with an infuriatingly condescending expression on his face.

Oh, she could smash his face with the can!

"I'll talk as I like! You're not my teacher now!" she exclaimed, her temper flaring and for the safety of Mrs Higgins's water-can she walked a few steps away from him.

"I can talk and marry as I please! I've always had chaps enough wanting me that way," Eliza continued and feeling the need to prove her point, she added:

"Freddy Hill writes to my twice and three times a day, sheets and sheets!"

And suddenly she watched as the condescending and self-complacent sun on Higgins's face set and thunderous clouds arrived in its place.

"Damn his impudence!" Higgins shouted and banged his fist on the coffee table, making the tea cups rattle.

"He has right to if he likes, poor lad," stated Eliza with a small smile on her now serene face.

"You have no right to encourage him!" Higgins fumed and made jabbing gestures at her with his fore-finger. Eliza held her head high defiantly.

"Every girl has a right to be loved," she exclaimed with feeling.

"What? By fools like him?" Higgins laughed derisively with an unpleasant look on his face, and Eliza felt her temper flare again.

"Freddy's not a fool!" she cried out. "And if he's weak and poor and wants me, may be he can make me happier than my betters who bully me and don't want me!"

Higgins snorted and shook his head in a knowing manner.

"In short, you want me to be as infatuated about you as Freddy? Is that it?" he said with a look in his eyes that challenged her to try and deny it. And Eliza was determined to do just that.

"No, I don't," she replied, feeling calm again. "I know I'm a common ignorant girl, and you a book-learned gentleman, but I'm not dirt under your feet."

She took a while to compose herself further and was glad that Higgins decided to be silent for once.

"What I done," Eliza stopped and corrected herself, not wanting to be interrupted by him.

"What I did was not for the dresses and the taxis. I did it because we were pleasant together and I come - came - to care for you. Not forgetting the difference between us, but more - friendly like..."

Eliza saw him gazing at her with wonder in his eyes and hoped that perhaps for once he listened to her and understood what she was trying to say.

"Well, of course," he said with a real smile. "That's how I feel."

Eliza took in a surprised breath and in that moment, that she allowed herself to believe he actually understood, he suddenly frowned and shook his head.

"And how Pickering feels," he added and flung his arms in the air again. "And Eliza, you're a fool!"

"That's not a proper answer to give me!" Eliza said, feeling near tears. Of exasperation, of course.

"It's all you'll get until you stop being a common idiot," Higgins spat out, waving his arms about.

"If you're going to be a lady, you'll have to give up feeling neglected if the men you know don't spend half their time snivelling over you and the other half giving you black eyes."

As he was lecturing, he again assumed the air of a teacher in a classroom and Eliza almost found herself slipping into the role of a pupil - almost.

"You find me cold, unfeeling, selfish, don't you?" Higgins continued. "Very well: be off with you to the sort of people you like!"

Eliza could only watch in absolute amazement as yet again he managed to twist her words around. His way and ease with words would probably never cease to amaze her. But as she had said to Freddy the night before, she was quite sick of words. Higgins's rant, however, wasn't over yet.

"Marry some sentimental hog or other with lots of money, and a thick pair of lips to kiss you with and a thick pair of boots to kick you with. If you can't appreciate what you've got, you'd better get what you can appreciate!"

And with that he stopped speaking and assumed a rather majestic pose. And perhaps for the first time, Eliza thought what a ridiculous man Henry Higgins was.

"Oh, I can't talk to you. You turn everything against me: I'm always in the wrong!" She said and feeling unwilling to stay in the same room as him, she started to walk towards Mrs Higgins's conservatory.

Suddenly, an idea stopped her, it was a brilliant thought and had a great potential for getting even more rise out of that magnanimous peacock.

"But don't be too sure that you have me under your feet to be trampled on and talked down," she announced strongly. "I'll marry Freddy, I will, as soon as he's able to support me!"

Higgins took a few steps towards her and for a moment she thought he wouldn't get out a word for all his mocking snorting.

"Freddy?" He finally managed to say. "That poor devil who couldn't get a job as an errant boy, even if he had the guts to try for it?"

Eliza bristled at that. She had no illusions about Freddy's abilities, but that sweet boy didn't deserve to be mocked for his timid nature. Especially, as she now felt that the naïve, weak and lovey-dovey Freddy Eynsford-Hill was worth the ten of coldly sophisticated Henry Higgins'.

"Woman, don't you understand? I made you a consort for a king!" exclaimed Higgins and Eliza felt that this was the way a sculptor would look, if he saw his favourite piece being placed in a public park, rather than the palace garden he had hoped for.

But she was no figurine made of muddy clay or even cold pristine marble, and it infuriated her to hear him speak of her as such. He didn't make her! She was her own person, a free human being with independent will and feelings.

"Freddy loves me, that makes him king enough for me!" she shouted and decided to get to the bottom of her plan. She wanted to wound him as much as he was wounding her.

"And he wasn't brought up to work as I was.  **I'** ll go and be a teacher!"

He looked incredulous.

"What will you teach, in heaven's name?" asked Higgins disbelievingly.

"What you taught me! I'll teach phonetics," Eliza announced.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" was Higgins's reply.

Eliza thought it sounded as if a hunch-backed man was falling down the stairs. His infuriating superiority to all the world made her want to smack him. But perhaps losing his composure would serve just as well, if not better.

"I'll offer myself as an assistant to that brilliant Hungarian!" She cried out and victoriously watched as he sprung up and stalked towards her.

"What?" he roared. "That impostor! that humbug! that toadying ignoramus!"

Eliza watched him gleefully, he was almost spitting in his rage.

"Teach him my methods! my discoveries!" Higgins shouted. "You take one step in his direction and I'll wring your neck! Do you hear?"

The great Professor Henry Higgins was standing right in front of her with his hands outstretched to wrap around her neck and a glint of almost murderous rage in his eyes, and Eliza found that she was not afraid.

All she could feel was an immense wave of triumph come over her with seeing that aloof man so incensed.

"Wring away!" she cried out. "What do I care? I knew you'd strike me someday."

Oh, she could almost dance and sing with glee at seeing him slump into the wicker-chair.

"That's done you, Henry Higgins, it has!" she said, smiling smugly. "Now I don't care a bit for your bullying and your big talk!" She could almost clap her hands in excitement.

"Oh, when I think of myself crawling under your feet and being trampled on and called names, when all the time I had only to lift up my finger to be as good as you! I could just kick myself! I was such a fool to think of you as if you were the earth and the sky! You, my dear friend, fancy yourself better than all the rest of us because you talk oh-so-well, but you are not the beginning and the end."

Eliza felt an immense wave of pleasure at Higgins's scandalized expression. His own loss of temper and her triumph left him speechless. At last he gasped out:

"You impudent hussy! There's not an idea in that head of yours or a word in your mouth that I haven't put there!"

Eliza giggled at his outraged look, she felt almost drunk on her victory.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, oh great teacher of mine!" she cried out and made an exaggerated bow. "There ARE things in this world you cannot take credit for, you know."

"You brazen hussy..." he, indignantly, made to interrupt her, but she wouldn't let him.

"Somehow the Earth can spin without your twirling it! Surprisingly enough, you needn't hold up the sky and push the clouds, they roll by all by themselves. They can even rule the land without you, imagine that!"

Eliza had to pause to stop herself from laughing at his shell-shocked expression.

"Oh, there still will be rain on that plain down in Spain! Even Keats will survive without you, and so shall I! I can do without you!"

Eliza wanted to add many more things and infuriate him even further, but Henry Higgins interrupted her with a loud cry of his own.

"Eliza, you are magnificent! Five minutes ago, you were like a millstone round my neck," Higgins said, walking towards her with sparkling eyes.

He looked just like he had that night when she finally got those ridiculous 'plains in Spain' right. And for a moment Eliza wanted him to grab her and lead her across the floor again.

"Now you're a tower of strength, a consort battleship!" he exclaimed with a proud smile. "I like you this way."

Eliza maintained a cool exterior, but her mind was in disarray. If he was angry at her, struck her and ordered her never to show her face in Wimpole Street again, she could have simply walked away with the knowledge of her final triumph over the man.

But he, yet again, managed to somehow turn it all around. The empowering feeling of victory suddenly gave away and Eliza felt a wave of great despair come over her. He seemed proud of her for mocking him.

He called her magnificent, and yet he wanted her to fetch and carry for him. He didn't want her, and yet he was furious at the thought of her marrying Freddy. He liked her strong and independent, and yet he was trying to cajole her into coming back to Wimpole Street with him.

He was impossible and unreasonable. He treated her like a shiny doll that woke to life and first drew breath when he hammered the As and Hs into her. And yet...

Eliza's heart clenched painfully. If only he could love her... Not as a pretty thing he helped to mould, but as a woman, with the same fire he showed in his rage. She wanted no infatuated proclamations of love. If only he could care for her...

Eliza felt as if a knife had been driven into her already aching heart and twisted around. She realized that would never be. Henry Higgins was incapable of such feeling for anything else than his science and maybe Milton. He simply wasn't that sort of a man, and she couldn't live in Wimpole Street with any less from him. She couldn't live with a man who wanted her to slave for him and be his 'consort battleship' at the same time. She couldn't be **both**  a slave and a 'tower of strength'. And moreover, Eliza Doolittle never had, nor ever would consent to being anyone's slave!

"Goodbye, Professor Higgins," said Eliza with stony determination. "You shall not be seeing me again."

And with those words she swept out of the lounge and went up the stairs into the room the good Mrs Higgins had prepared for her upon her arrival.

As she was about to close the door behind herself and Henry Higgins, she heard him bellow for his mother and then with a soft and surprisingly vulnerable voice announce:

"She's gone."

And Eliza let the door close with a click and threw herself into a chair at the vanity table. She stared unseeingly at her picture in the mirror and then clenched her eyes shut. She tried to force all thoughts from her mind. All the doubts about her assumptions of Henry Higgins's feelings, all the fears of the future. She tried to go back to the time when she was only a poor flower girl. How she in her childish ignorance thought that being a lady meant having no worries.

While Eliza was beyond the stage of wailing: 'what is to become of me?', that didn't mean these questions bothered her any less.

"Marry Freddy. Ha!" she mimicked Higgins's voice as she looked up. She turned the thought around in her head and in the end she had to admit that for once the Professor was right.

She couldn't marry Freddy. For one, she didn't love him and she was quite sure that the silly boy didn't love her either. What did he know about her? Nothing, except for the fact that her aunt and father had strong affinity for gin and that she could swear worse than a sailor.

Eliza stroked the delicate petals of a white rose, that stood in a thin elegant vase next to the mirror, and she leaned forward to breath in its sweet fragrance. She knew she couldn't be happy with a man-child she'd have to support, even if he wrote serenades and sang them under her window. Sooner or later, and she suspected it would be sooner rather than later, another pretty girl would come and turn the head of Freddy Eynsford-Hill, and she'd prefer not to be his wife when that would happen.

Eliza got up from the vanity table with a decisive nod of her head. When she had decided to go and ask Henry Higgins for lessons, she had done it with a dream of better occupation in her mind. And with a slow smile, Eliza realized that that dream was now a possibility. Once more, she would have to work on her speech and manners. This time, her goal wouldn't be to be able to pass of as a foreign princess, but as a young girl of good character willing to earn her living. She had learned how to be a duchess, surely she could learn how a shop assistants behaved! She would become a lady in a flower shop, or maybe a ladies maid.

Eliza felt as if a great weight was suddenly lifted off her shoulders and she walked towards the wardrobe in the corner. Mrs Higgin's maids had already taken all of her fine dresses out of her suitcase and hanged them. She stroked the soft fabrics and then with a small sigh she closed the wardrobe's door. She probably wouldn't have much use for the dresses any more. Ladies in flower shops didn't go around dressed so finely, she'd have to buy some more sensible clothes once she'd sold some of these.

And suddenly, Eliza felt herself no longer dreading the future, but rather she felt the future race towards her and remind her of the many things that needed to be done before she could rest, secure of her situation. There were many shops to visit, people to study, letters of references to be got and dresses to be bought and Eliza felt that she really shouldn't impose on Mrs Higgins's hospitality any longer.

Feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of things she had yet to do, Eliza sat down on her bed tiredly. And for the first time that day, she realized how tired she was. By God, why, she hadn't slept a wink after all the dancing at the Embassy Ball! And for now, she certainly felt that she could not 'dance all night and still beg for more'. In fact, all Eliza felt like doing after all the emotional turmoil was getting a good sleep. Maybe just for a little while...

And so Eliza Doolittle fell asleep and didn't wake up even when Mrs Higgins came into the room, or even when the night fell and the next morning came.

"Mary, if she still doesn't wake up, we'll have to send for a doctor," Eliza heard the worried voice of her hostess announce. She felt her eyelids flutter open and then close again rapidly at the onslaught of the bright light streaming from the window.

"Oh, she is waking up, ma'am!" said another voice, sounding relieved.

"Good," came a short reply and next, Eliza felt a hand shaking her shoulder gently.

"Wake up, my child," urged Mrs Higgins and Eliza felt obliged to open her eyes despite her unwillingness.

"Are you quite well, Eliza?" asked Mrs Higgins with a worried frown.

"Oh, yes, I'm well," Eliza assured her quickly and made to get up, only to be stopped with both Mrs Higgins's and the maid's hands.

Mrs Higgins looked at her intently, as if searching for something.

"Well, the colour is back in your cheeks," she announced finally and let her go. "But you looked as pale as death when you were asleep these past two days!"

"I've slept for two days?" Eliza cried out in disbelief and straightened up on the bed.

"Yes, you did, my dear. It's about dinner time, now," Mrs Higgins informed her and got up from the bed resolutely. "But I suppose you needed the rest after having to deal with my brute of a son."

"Oh," was all Eliza could say in reply as the memory, that had left her to sleep in peace, suddenly returned. She forced back the painful twinge in her chest and opened her mouth to speak.

"Mrs Higgins, I was wondering if I may ask..."

But she was interrupted.

"Of course, you may, my child," answered Mrs Higgins. "But do so after getting dressed and having something to eat."

With a kind smile on her face she walked to the door and left, saying:

"Mary will help you with your toilette."

Eliza smiled at the maid awkwardly. While she had lived with the Professor, it had seemed natural to let herself be pampered and dressed. Now, however, she felt it wouldn't be right.

"I... Thank you, Mary," she got out finally. "I'd like to dress by myself."

And so, with a small curtsy, Mary left her alone to dress and do her hair. It felt nice to be able to do those things by herself again and it made her feel as if she was at last really standing on her own feet again.

After dressing herself and eating her supper, Eliza arrived into Mrs Higgins's conservatory. The old lady was sitting in her wicker-chair with a book and glasses on her nose. In that moment for the first time she resembled her book-learned son.

"Oh, it's no good thinking about him!" Eliza reprimanded herself in a mutter and Mrs Higgins looked up from her book.

"There you are, dear," she exclaimed and put away the thick tome. "I was just reading my favourite." She added and waved her hand towards the book.

"There's nothing quite like the classical literature, don't you think? Very few authors have managed to surpass the great Ovid and his Metamorphoses."

Eliza felt incredibly dumb, as she had no idea what Mrs Higgins was talking about and could only nod and agree with a quiet:

"Quite."

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear," Mrs Higgins apologized almost immediately. "I was lost in thoughts for a moment. I believe there was something you wanted to ask."

Eliza smiled gratefully at the older woman and after an empathetic gesture from Mrs Higgins she seated herself in a wicker-chair next to her hostess.

"I've decided to seek employment in a florist shop," she announced after a while and saw Mrs Higgins's eyes widen slightly. "I do not think I have sufficient training to become someone's ladies maid and I've always loved flowers."

"My dear..." Mrs Higgins started to say, but stopped short as she realized there wasn't much to say to that.

"I only fear that no shop-keeper will be willing to employ me without some letter of reference," Eliza continued. She felt slightly embarrassed at having to ask this of her hostess, but she knew of no other person, who could help her with this.

"I'd like to ask if maybe you could provide such a letter."

"Oh, of course I could, my child!" exclaimed Mrs Higgins, obviously overwhelmed by this sudden information. "I only thought that you would marry..."

Here she trailed off again with a sad shake of her head.

"I cannot marry Freddy Eynsford-Hill, madam," said Eliza in answer to the older lady's unfinished statement. "And I don't feel that I need to marry anyone yet. I'm young, no old spinster and I can work."

Mrs Higgins looked pensive for a moment and Eliza at first thought that she hadn't heard her. After a while, however, Mrs Higgins spoke again.

"I suppose you are right, my dear," she said. "I will give you my references, of course, and you can stay here with me as long as you like."

"That's too kind, Mrs Higgins!" Eliza cried out in surprise at the offer.

"Oh, nonsense! It's no trouble to me, my child," Mrs Higgins waved her gratitude away. "And I shall like having you with me. It gets lonely with the only company coming for my 'at home' days."

Eliza was about to thank the lady again, but Mrs Higgins wasn't finished yet.

"However, I believe that should you have any chance of a good employment, you need at least one more letter confirming your character."

"But I don't know..." Eliza began, but again she was interrupted by her hostess.

"Don't you, my dear?" asked Mrs Higgins with raised eyebrows. "I believe the good Mrs Pearce would be quite happy to oblige you."

"Oh, Mrs Pearce?" Eliza exclaimed. "But I couldn't possibly go back there!"

Eliza felt a wave of panic rise inside her. She knew that Mrs Higgins was right. Two letters gave her better chance than only one, but how could she possibly walk to his door and see his housekeeper without meeting him? And oh, how frightful and humiliating it would be to see him sneer at her or to hear him laugh at her with contempt!

"I couldn't, Mrs Higgins! I couldn't!" she cried out in panic.

"Oh, calm yourself, child," Mrs Higgins ordered gently and Eliza, distressed and feeling extremely foolish, did as was asked of her.

"Contrary to what you have witnessed, my son doesn't spend all his time holed up in that study of his," her hostess continued. "This evening, for example, we are both to go to a birthday celebration of my other son's daughter. She is John's first born and Henry for some reason thinks that she is his namesake. Her name is Erica, though, so I'm not sure what led him to believe that John named his daughter after him. Nevertheless, he seems to tolerate Erica better than he does any other five-year-old and he knows I would skin him alive if he didn't come."

And with that, all Eliza's worries seemed to have disappeared. He wouldn't be at home and she could go to see Mrs Pearce without any worry! Besides, it would be nice to say goodbye to the house. She had grown to think of it as of her home and despite all of its masculine decorations, she felt good there. She smiled brightly at the old lady.

"You've said it's almost evening before. What time does the celebration begin?" she asked eagerly.

"I'll be leaving in about half hour," answered Mrs Higgins. "I was just about to go prepare and have Mary call a taxi. You could go with me, Eliza, we'll have to drive through Wimpole Street."

Eliza nodded quickly and, suddenly feeling restless, she got up and reached for the water can. Mrs Higgins watched her for a while with a strange expression on her face before she got up and left the room to prepare for her granddaughter's birthday dinner.

Eliza couldn't stand still. She felt restless and eager and worried and anxious at the same time. And she wasn't sure if she was more excited or afraid of walking through his house again. Or of it was perhaps the prospect of her new future that had her in this state.

She tried to force herself to sit calmly, she even tried reading a passage from that book Mrs Higgins praised so much. But it didn't help the queasiness in her stomach a bit and she was too distracted to take in the words on the page. Finally, as she was almost biting her finger-nails in anxiousness, Mrs Higgins reappeared in the lounge and together they departed.

However, seeing the beautifully carved front door didn't calm her nerves in the slightest, as she had thought it might. Instead, it created another wave of panic that nearly sent her running after the leaving taxi of the kind Mrs Higgins. Not even the fact that it was already almost dark and he was doubtlessly on his way to his brother, the clergyman, seemed to help.

She walked up the front steps and knocked on the door softly, half-hoping nobody would hear her and she would have an excuse to walk away. However, the door opened almost instantly and Eliza was greeted by the sight of a very surprised Thomas, the butler.

"Miss Doolittle," Thomas said in a shocked voice, but he maintained a neutral expression and quickly offered in explanation:

"We were expecting Colonel Pickering to return from his evening walk."

"I've come to talk to Mrs Pearce," Eliza explained quickly, not wanting him to think she came to visit his master.

He smiled at her a little and Eliza wasn't entirely sure if he was smiling because he was glad to see her or because he didn't believe her.

"Certainly, miss," said Thomas and led her farther into the hallway. "I'll call her for you."

And he left her standing there alone and quickly walked up the staircase to fetch the housekeeper.

It was strange to see the same staircase she had walked down in a beautiful gown and jewels again as an aspiring shop assistant. It was queer to suddenly feel like a stranger in a place she had considered her home for whole six months.

God! Was it only six months? It felt like years, like decades. At least, Eliza felt years and decades older than the girl in that frightful hat with three ostrich feathers who screamed at the sight of a steaming bath tub.

It saddened Eliza to know that after this night, she'd never return to this place again. She looked around, trying to take in all the familiar sights. She tried to commit the whole house into her memory; its dark panelling, the low glow of the electric lamps, the smooth surface of the elegant doors. The house even had its set of specific sounds she never wanted to forget; the soft clicks of the maids' heels on the floor above her, the off-tune humming of Edward, the manservant, even the cracking sound the gramophone in the Professor's study made when it was being switched on...

Eliza listened with a half-dreamy, half-sad smile to the sounds of the house before her expression turned into a one of horror.

The gramophone was on! Colonel Pickering was out! The servants would have never switched that blasted thing on... That could only mean one thing: Henry Higgins didn't go to his niece's birthday dinner, he was at home!

Eliza stood in the hallway, paralysed. Her brain was screaming at her to run as if the hounds of hell were at her heels, but her legs felt as if they were made of lead, or of iron for the matter. Because there was undoubtedly a magnet in the study and Eliza found herself stepping towards the open door. She was trembling as she reached the door to the study and almost against her will looked inside.

There was no doubt about it. Henry Higgins was at home and now was the time to flee, unless she wished to be exposed to his ridicule. She knew him quite well and was sure of his gleeful and arrogant cries of 'I told you so'. She knew she couldn't bear to spend one minute in the mocking presence of this man, she seemed to love against her better judgement.

And yet, something in the atmosphere of the room stopped her from turning around and walking away. And Eliza realized that Henry Higgins was sitting slumped in his easy-chair and that he was in his bathrobe. With growing wonder Eliza noticed that his feet were bare and his hair, that was usually so carefully arranged, in an incredible state of mess on his head.

In surprise, she took one step into the room and quickly stopped as the record fell silent. She didn't dare to breath. Suddenly, a low groan came from the slumped figure.

Eliza had to stop herself from gasping out loud. Was he ill? But her worries were dispelled as he opened his mouth again.

"Serenely independent, indeed!" came a hoarse whisper and Henry Higgins dropped his head into his hands as the gramophone played another recording. Eliza felt her heart leap in her chest as she recognized her own Cockney accent coming from the horn.

"Ah, we are proud! He ain't above giving lessons, I heard him say so!"

He shook his head in his hands.

"By George, I was a fool!" he whispered and listened intently to his own answer on the record.

Eliza's heart threatened to burst out with emotion and her brain seemed to have given out altogether under the strain of the new information and what it meant. She had forgotten all about Mrs Pearce and her letter, she had forgotten all about Henry Higgins's niece, she had forgotten everything and she could not comprehend what to make of him listening to her voice, just as she had advised him he should.

Did he miss her? Did he want her? Did he, dare she think it, love her?

And suddenly, Eliza felt herself compelled by some invisible force to step towards the gramophone and turn in off. And then she heard herself finish the recording.

"I washed my face and hands before I come, I did."

She saw Henry Higgins stiffen in his chair. She heard him gasp out, when she dared to draw a deeper breath.

"Eliza!" he whispered and into his voice seemed to be poured all the emotions in the world. Eliza stood in the doorway, her chest heaving with her deep breaths, and she waited for his next move.

Henry Higgins seemed at first too stunned to react, but then, as if reaching the end of some inner debate, he straightened his posture and leaned into his easy-chair, closing his eyes.

"Where the devil are my slippers?"

And at the brisk question, Eliza felt her heart stop and she instantly regretted her decision to come and to turn that blasted gramophone off. Because, at this question, all the wonder and feeling had disappeared from his voice and Eliza felt disappointment like a vice clench her heart.

And then she saw his shoulders shake a little, as if he was laughing. Was he mocking her? Was he teasing her?

He was! In spite of herself, Eliza started to chuckle at his sense of humour. And as she stood there laughing, her gaze slid over a pair of slippers behind the easy-chair.

On sudden impulse, she stooped to pick them up and then she let them one by one fall on Henry Higgins's head.

"Here are you slippers. And there!" she got out between giggles at his nonplussed expression. She knew she couldn't let him win this round and get the better of her.

Eliza wouldn't be looking for slippers any more and even if he was joking, she wouldn't let him think he could get away with it.

"No more looking for slippers for me, Henry Higgins. I won't do that any more, don't you think I will!" she heard herself say as she gazed into his surprised green eyes.

And Henry Higgins jumped up from his chair and in a few steps stood in front of her. He appeared to be drinking in the sight of her. And then... and then he quickly pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

* * *

Few miles away, in a house that was perhaps less grand than the one on Wimpole Street, Mrs Higgins smiled in satisfaction at her older son's absence from the dinner party. Of course, she gave excuses for him, mentioning a sudden headache or something or other and no one pretended to be surprised or angry.

Oh, they all knew perfectly well that Henry would forget Erica's birthday. He always did.


End file.
